


Is it working?/In vino veritas

by RaeNonnyNonny



Series: Assorted Striketober 2020 [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Cormoran Strike Loves Robin Ellacott, Drabble, Drunk Cormoran Strike, F/M, Human Disaster Cormoran Strike, Robin "Designated Driver" Ellacott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26836645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeNonnyNonny/pseuds/RaeNonnyNonny
Summary: Inspired by Striketober Day 6 prompt: Is it working?Robin gets a voicemail... Cormoran's been down the pub with Nick and is a little worse for wear - could she come and help him get home safely?I think this is somewhere in the region of later Lethal White or Troubled Blood but no specific spoilers, just a wee drabble. Definitely takes place after Cuckoo's Calling. One for all you lovers of Drunk!Strike because I'm a v'ry nice p'rson like that.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Assorted Striketober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165961
Comments: 17
Kudos: 33
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	Is it working?/In vino veritas

"Alrigh' darlin', takin' me 'ome are ya?" This was one situation where Cormoran's Cockney side tended to come out broader than ever, particularly when he was affecting a laddish persona, and it definitely did things to Robin.  
He waggled his eyebrows and giggle-sniggered at his own wit. Robin sighed, stifling an exasperated smile, and held out her arm for him to steady himself.

"Cormoran Blue, are you drunk?" Robin said, Yorkshirely, in a slightly cross, motherly tone that, if sincere, Lucy would surely have been proud of.

"Wha' - wha'?!? Why do you say tha'?!" His eyes grew large, his hands splaying open and his shoulders lifting in a half shrug, aiming for boyish innocence and failing dismally, before hiccupping gently and swaying over to lean on her shoulder. His eyes fell to appreciating the soft valley of her cleavage from his vantage point above the opening of her coat, a waft of perfume catching up with him, and he swallowed.

"Well the boozy breath, impaired speech and motion were a bit of a giveaway, not to mention you're very obviously checking me out," (Robin pulled her coat together slightly) "and if you were any other man I'd say you were attempting to flirt." (She snorted like it was a ridiculous notion, him flirting with HER) "Either that or you're putting on a very strange act of chatting me up just to make me laugh."

"Is it working?" Old Crinkly Eyes shot back, his cheeky face hovering nearer, winking exaggeratedly. He patted his pockets for his lighter but decided it was too much effort.

"That depends on whether you mean it." She was already at the door of the BMW, tugging at the door, not looking at him as she said it, but there was a hint of wistfulness in her voice despite the attempt at lightness and returning his banter. Her beautiful hair was gleaming in the sodium streetlights and he could see her breath in the night air.

Strike wobbled upwards, taking his arm off her shoulder. _Bugger_ , he thought. His mouth fell slightly open, his eyes unfocussed and somewhat heavy-lidded with drink moving to find the approximate location of Robin's eyes. His brain registered a warning message, realising he had stumbled into a trap, if not a potential field of landmines. He couldn't bear to leave her thinking she was unworthy of flirting with - but he really, really shouldn't let her know how much he wanted to.  
With effort he closed his mouth, but this did not reduce the appearance of a dumbfounded bear.

Robin opened the door, stepped back and looked up at him. She leant her back on the side of car, arms lightly crossed, expectant but not judging. Just like Strike had taught her the first time she rescued him from the pub - you've got to know when to ask a question and when not to. And then when to leave a silence for the suspect to fill, listening for them to hang themselves.  
Despite the painful awareness that this technique was being used on himself, Strike felt slightly proud of her (even if, were he honest with himself, he'd acknowledge that Linda Ellacott was probably as much an influence).

Strike took a deep breath. 

In the distance his phone alarm sounded.

**Author's Note:**

> We know Strike tries very hard not to ogle Robin openly but in my mind, him being drunk means he doesn't have the reaction time to cover his tracks, plus of course it's part of the "act", as Robin might see it...


End file.
